


Stolen kisses

by pisum_sativum



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: 5+1 Things, Anakin is a jealous little bitch, Boys Kissing, Day one: Stolen Kisses, Fix-It of Sorts, Happy Ending, I hope, Kissing, Light-Hearted, M/M, Obikin Week 2019, Oblivious Obi-Wan Kenobi, Pining, Sweet, enough fluff to keep the world rotating, kind of??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 20:00:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20297134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pisum_sativum/pseuds/pisum_sativum
Summary: 5 times Obi-Wan got a kiss and one time it was the other way around.ORAnakin didn't know what it was like not to love Obi-Wan.The rating might change.





	1. Chapter 1

Qui-Gon Jinn's funeral on Naboo was only a symbolic one. His body was brought back to the Temple for Jedi funeral, kept in a clear cooling capsule that would preserve the body until it arrived on Coruscant.

Anakin had seen ghosts many times in his young life most of the time in the graveyard he had visited with his mom when someone they knew passed away. Usually ghosts clung to where their body remained in this universe at random times.

For that reason, Anakin chose to sleep in the room next to where they kept Qui-Gon's body in, hoping to catch a glimpse or hear something from the late man in case he visited.

Anakin heard the weird sound muffled by the dented metal wall on the second day of the journey. He jumped off the bunk, barely remembered to pull on a rumpled shirt and almost ran outside, eager to meet the late Jedi Master. Wisps of speech--a conversation!--beckoned him through the slit of the door, where blue light passed through.

Anakin's heart thumped faster, swelling bigger and bigger when he noticed the blue.

It deflated when he looked inside and Qui-Gon's spirit was not there. The blue was originated from the glow light that bled gloom in every corner.

"--sorry--a hiccup--I couldn't save you. Force, I was such a--a deep intake of breath--a failure."

The light failed to illuminate the cloaked man before the capsule, who swiped the sleeve across his face when he noticed Anakin approached.

_ Obi-Wan. _

The man had said Anakin would have to call him  _ Master _ after they arrived on Coruscant for now calling him  _ Obi-Wan  _ was fine.

Anakin wiped his hand on the foggy glass that contained Qui-Gon. He saw the man's leonine face, forever resting in a small smile, his sharp eyes that would never see again, framed in lush, silvered mane.

Qui-Gon looked  _ happy _ , rejoiced in his return to the Force.

He shouldn't, when the livings missed him so much.

"I miss him too," Anakin said, sinking to sit next to his companion in grieving, so close the dark hem of the cloak was brushing his knees.

In this position, he saw the man before him in a different light, lit by tear tracts of gleaming stars that formed hyperspace. Face revealed from the hood was clear porcelain, pearly white and with life sucked out, twin black holes under equally dead eyes and fair stubble stabbing out from the chin.

Qui-Gon looked more alive more than him.

"We'll miss him together," Anakin said softly to not disturb Qui-Gon, or his companion.

A tiny dip of the hood told Anakin his message was heard.

Anakin rested his hands on his knees, thinking about the late man and memories they had together. Qui-Gon was a good man, a  _ wizard  _ Jedi. He had freed him from slavery, taken him to Coruscant and begged the Council to train  _ him _ .

Anakin had just meet Qui-Gon for a few days, the gaping hole of absence already tore the tissue in his chest. It must be worse for the Obi-Wan, who knew Qui-Gon for much much longer.

Anakin shifted his legs and crossed them loosely to relieve the tingling cramp wondering how the man next to him didn't feel the same discomfort. He scratched his ankle, mesmerized by the crease and fold of dark robe, a pond of woven wool that rippled in time with Obi-Wan's head, drooping, then jerking up, then dropping again, and jerking, lips parting lightly.

Anakin tiptoed out of the room, his hushed footsteps unheard by its sole living occupant, and got the pillows and blankets from his own room, tucked them under his arms and tiptoed back.

Anakin observed the floor, it was better than many places Anakin had slept on. It was clean, no dust, or sand, or rusting, also no sign of weird bugs that left itchy hive.

Satisfied, Anakin unfolded the thick blanket and eased the exhausted man down to lie on his back without rousing him to consciousness, inserting a pillow under the hooded head, all with a small lulling touch of the Force.

Anakin paused by the door and dimmed the light on the way out.

He forgot something.

He closed his eyes, trying to recall what his mother would do. Ah! "Goodnight," he mouthed.

He still forgot something.

He walked back to the Knight and a bit awkwardly kissed him on the forehead. To keep nightmares away, his mother used to say. Oh, he hoped she didn't miss him too much…

Anakin stood and paused again, this time because he realized there was no blanket back in the room, on the bunk that was much too soft than he used to and space was too cold to sleep without one. The blanketed floor here felt much better .  Besides, Obi-Wan agreed when he said they would miss Qui-Gon together.

Yeah, Obi-Wan definitely wouldn't mind if he sleep here.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

It happened after the 'saber lesson.

Anakin's heart was still thrumming in his chest as fast as a hummingbird's from physical exertion as much as from being so close with his master.

Anakin wiped sweat from his brow, trying not to notice the way Obi-Wan's shirt clung to his sweaty body as the Knight took a swig of cold water from his flask. He rubbed his face with the towel with more force than necessary to  _ not notice  _ the drop of moisture travelling down his Master's flushed neck.

Why did he feel the warmth blooming in his stomach?

Anakin decided not to pursue the answer and to take a quick shower instead.

"Quin!"

Anakin was halfway to the 'fresher when he heard Obi-Wan called out with a warm smile on his face as Quinlan sauntered into the dojo. Obi-Wan's smile morphed into an  _ oof _ when Master Vos swept him into a bone-crushing hug.

Anakin's feet stopped then. Curiously enough, he found the warmth in his stomach throbbed achingly. The throbbing lessened as his Master was released from the embrace but didn't entirely dissipate.

"You're back early." Obi-Wan clasped his hand around the tan arm that wrapped around his shoulder.

Quinlan's year-long mission to the Outer Rims was successful and ended weeks before destined date.

Anakin waved at Obi-Wan's friend in greeting. Vos waved back and talked to Obi-Wan excitedly.

_ Too excitedly for Anakin's liking.  _ Anakin's feet remained planted to the ground, refused to continue its way to the shower. They seemed to dig roots into the wooden floor when he heard Obi-Wan's rare, roaring laughter. The towel and fresh clothes in his grip clenched tight and forgotten.

Anakin turned back at another peal of laughter, this time a rather undignified giggle. The warmth turned to ice when Quinlan playfully pecked on Obi-Wan's left cheek. 

Anakin took action before Quinlan's lips met Obi-Wan's other cheek, giving a small shove with the Force, knocking him out of balance, and disappeared into the shower's open door before anyone noticed.

Anakin told himself he didn't understand Vos' knowing wink or his wiggling eyebrows the next time they met.

*


	3. Chapter 3

There were two main reasons Anakin didn't wash any dish during Obi-Wan's two-week solo mission, but let it pile up into an impressive architecture that seemed to defy gravity in the kitchen sink.

The first reason was that he was lazy, plain and simple. The second was … more complicated.

Obi-Wan could think parsecs per second. He would worry about things large and small, from what he should write in the mission report to how to help climate change on Coruscant. Obi-Wan and he were the same in that respect, just that Obi-Wan could calm his mind so much better with the Force, meditation came to him as easy as breathing.

Anakin knew Obi-Wan wouldn't let him get away with the unwashed dish easily. He would get the lecture he had got so many times before. And when he did, Obi-Wan's attention would be solely on him, even if it was to berate him for the childish behavior.

Anakin enjoyed every second of that, filled with almost guilty pride that he managed to keep Obi-Wan's attention on him and him alone.

It was a great surprise to Anakin when he woke and his dishes still stood tall and proud, untouched by his Master.

Had Obi-Wan finally quell the compulsive urge to keep everything in his vicinity clean and tidy and would leave Anakin to clean up his own mess? It was unlikely, but there was a probability, no matter how slim that this was the case.

But the dishes weren't the only thing untouched by Obi-Wan. There was no still-wet teacup left to dry on the rack, nor were soaked leaves in the bin.

"Master?" Anakin called out into their shared apartment, his teeth chewed the lower lip betraying his unease. He palmed open the door leading to the room slightly more spacious and much neater than his own. The only stray item was a compact rucksack Obi-Wan brought to mission to carry his bare essentials.

Obi-Wan blinked open one eye, heavy and unfocused. "Force, I've felt better." He blinked again and unglued his other eye. Since when have you got two faces, my young padawan?" He wiped the back of his hand on his flushed, sweaty forehead. "Two weeks. How did you do that? Amoeba super power? 

A raspy laugh. "Force, I really have felt butter. Yes, better boots."

Anakin nearly jerked when he felt the heat of Obi-Wan's skin, less like a fever, more like a furnace, and sighed in relief when he realized what illness affected his Master.

It was not really an illness, but more of a body's adaptation to abrupt change in temperature: to bring core temperature to the same level.

Anakin's prediction was confirmed data from mission log. Obi-Wan had been to a volcanic world to settle a disagreement between two tribes of thermophilic sentients.

Anakin himself had gotten this himself several times from the harsh climate of his homeworld. It was mostly harmless, but could cause discomfort and delirium. The cure was simple: to bring the core temperature back to base level.

His mother used to have him standing naked in the night's freezing breeze, teeth shattering, toes digging into the sand, praying for sweet mercy of warmth sometimes sewing needle and hyperdrive in his frenzied stage(High temperature deep-fried the brain.) until he was not a furnace to touch anymore.

It could work, it wouldn't be too hard to coax Obi-Wan to do that in front of the Jedi Temple. The winter air on Coruscant could work.

Hmm. Obi-Wan would absolutely love that, combined with the sincere home-returning gift he left in the sink…

Anakin would be most fortunate if he wasn't skinned alive.

"No, Obi. I have one head and you are far too hot," Anakin grinned to himself. He had wanted to call his Master by this nickname for so long. This was a good time.

"No, no, no. Not Obi. Obi-Wan." WAN was and stretched in slurred, cultured accent. "Obi-TWO. If-If I have children, I would call them Obi-Two, Obi-Three, Obi-four and so on."

"You!" Obi-Wan poked a finger on Anakin's chest. "You can be Obi-Two. You are like a son to me."

Blast. Obi-Wan could utterly destroyed his heart even in this incoherent state.

"You are like my father too," Anakin choked on a welling feeling in his throat.

_ Obi-Wan didn't know what he was talking. He was not himself. _

"Good. Glad we feel the same." Obi-Wan grinned goofily.

A vise clamped down Anakin's heart again. Kriff. Grandmother bantha's hairy kriff.

_ He wouldn't remember. _

Anakin brushed his lips on the grin.

Obi-Wan grinned wider against full lips and rested his feverish forehead on Anakin's, tugging him closer until they were pressed together. "You feel so good. So cool."

Anakin broke the kiss then, broke the moment because if Obi-Wan did remember, a kiss he could brush off with a blush and a joke, something more, he didn't want that to ruin them forever.

"I-I will prepare the bath for you." Anakin said weakly, knowing he would be utterly wrecked if this continued.

His lips were still tingling madly.


	4. Chapter 4

"I'm going to 'fresher. Be back in a sec," Anakin mumbled to his Master and slipped from the booth, heavy beats thrumming in the air an abuse to his eardrums. Anakin swore he could feel the floor vibrating.

Anakin shouldn't leave his Master on his own in a place like this, he thought as he splashed cold water onto his face. Obi-Wan was a trouble magnet, drawing troubles to himself without even trying. His Master was too kind, too ready to believe in the best in everyone. It made Anakin want to tie his Master to a chair and screamed at him until he understood that the galaxy didn't work like that. (Obi-Wan probably knew already. Even if he couldn't stop himself from jumping into trouble every time. Curse his bleeding heart.)

It turned out that Anakin wasn't wrong. He could taste  _ trouble  _ on his tongue the second he stepped out of the 'fresher. He waded through a sea of dancing bodies. Someone stumbled when he pushed them off his way. Anakin barely registered their outraged shriek because it didn't matter, nothing mattered when Obi-Wan needed him.

Anakin's eyes narrowed on a figure occupying the seat next to Obi-Wan.  _ Anakin's seat.  _ He stalked closer, their montrals revealing them to be a Togruta. She--Anakin noted it was a  _ she _ \--was too close to Obi-Wan. A tip of her head-tail was brushing Obi-Wan's thigh.

Anakin growled, the animalistic sound lost in roaring music. Obi-Wan was his Master.  _ His.  _ The sight of her scooting even closer, leaning forward to flaunt her full, barely covered breasts to his Obi-Wan, made him feel the heat of Tatooine's twin suns building in his core. It cooled rapidly, turning to frigid ice as he approached Obi-Wan from behind.

"Hey, dear one," Anakin murmured as he snaked his arms around his Master, one encircling his waist, one wrapping around his shoulder. Obi-Wan jumped, head snapping to one side and his nose bumped on Anakin's.

Obi-Wan's warm exhale ghosted his cheek, and it dawned to Anakin how close they  _ were _ . They were practically breathing the same air. Anakin could smell tea and cinnamon and that tantalizing scents unique to Obi-Wan. A flashing light painted Obi-Wan's face blue then green then yellow, and Anakin wanted to touch it so badly. He wanted to know how Obi-Wan's jaw would fit in his hand, how his auburn beard would prick his palm.

Kriff. Kriff. Kriff.

It could be how the light lit Obi-Wan's eyes just right and turned them clear purple. Or it could be how the Togruta's eyes were on them. Or it could be how soft and full his lips look. Or it could be Anakin's heart fluttering wildly commanding him to  _ kiss him, kiss him, kiss him. _

It didn't really matter. Anakin moved his face forward just by an inch, and Obi-Wan didn't drew away. Anakin's lips were on Obi-Wan's and everything felt quiet. There was no sound except a small keen emitting from the back of Obi-Wan's throat.

Obi-Wan's eyes were glazed when they parted, blown wide and unfocused. The sense of understanding-relief-exasperation-annoyance-disappointment swirled around the depth of Anakin's mind where his bond with Obi-Wan rested before the shield crept back in place.

Obi-Wan glanced to the side. Anakin's eyes followed him. The booth was empty. The Togruta was gone.

Anakin couldn't deny satisfaction welling inside him.

"Thank you for your timely rescue," Obi-Wan said, his Coruscanti accent thick and rough.

Anakin smirked, "Always at your service, Master."


	5. Chapter 5

Anakin gasped awake, his limbs cold. He sat on the edge of his bed, taking ragged breaths to try to calm himself down.

His head burnt too hot against the ice of his palm as he tried not to think about the dream. He'd dreamed about Obi-Wan. It was just a quick flash, really. A laser canon blasting Obi-Wan on Commander Cody's command.

The dream didn't make sense. Why would Cody shoot down his General? He was a good soldier, loyal to a fault that it made Anakin's inside burn watching him with Obi-Wan. Rationally, he knew that. Although, his heart didn't feel it. His throat constricted at the thought of the universe without Obi-Wan. Without his light, how dim it would be even with all the glowing stars?

Too dim. The darkness would win, Anakin felt it. And Anakin himself would be lost. It had been Obi-Wan's light guiding him to where he stood now, a Jedi Knight, a war General, the Hero with No Fear. Without Obi-Wan, Anakin didn't know where he would be. 

He shivered as the cold sweat dried on his back. He felt jittery. His body was burning up and freezing at the same time.

His muscles ached as Anakin threw his dark robes over his bare chest. Obi-Wan would make it all better even if Obi-Wan was probably sleeping at this time. It didn't matter. Just seeing that Obi-Wan was alive and well would be enough, Anakin told himself.

Before Obi-Wan's room, he used the Force to conceal his presence. He punched in the code. The door opened with a small whoosh. 

Anakin followed his heart until he saw his Master. He was a small lump on the bed, knees tucked close to his chest under thick blanket.

Anakin sent a wave of sooth-calm-sleep to not disturb him. He would hate to wake his Master. Stars knew he needed his rest.

Yawning, Anakin noted that he too, needed rest. His eyes felt so, so dry and it required too much effort to keep them open. He managed to though. Obi-Wan being this close gave him the energy to do so.

Besides, seeing Obi-Wan healthy and close to him was his rest.

Anakin sat, folding his legs on the wooden floor. His face was barely a foot away from Obi-Wan's face. Puffs of his deep exhale warmed the air and trickled Anakin's hair.

Anakin grinned softly. His Master was adorable. He had always been, but in this moment even more so than usual. It was Anakin's own fault that sometimes he forgot. The war painted him in a harsher light. Obi-Wan clad in his armour, face grim and contorted in a frown made it all too easy to forget he wasn't always a General.

It was all a mask to hide his big, soft heart. His Master was kind, patient and wise. Things Anakin wasn't. He would be satisfied if he could be half a Jedi Obi-Wan was.

The restlessness eased somewhat. It sank to the background of his mind but didn't dissipate. It never seemed to these days. The Force, especially on Coruscant, was dark and thick. It grated on Anakin's nerves. That line of thought was unwelcome. He didn't want his distress to jolt Obi-Wan from his peaceful sleep. He had to focus on something else instead.

His subject of interest was Obi-Wan. (Always was. Always had been.) Serenity was written on his face, in the looseness of his lips that were pursed together too tight during the day, their soft redness almost entirely hidden behind his beard. The weight of the war was still there, though. If Anakin squinted, he could see that his beard were not as immaculately kept as before, some stray strands escaped trimming and it was clear that it was hastily sheared into shape. His hair too was greasy and slick with unwash. His side bang was long and brushing against his eyelid. During the day, it would get into Obi-Wan's eye and hide that beautiful blue from Anakin, which was annoying as hell, Anakin learned from experience.

Anakin noted to himself to bully his Master into getting his hair cut before he was sent on the next campaign. He brushed that soft tuft and tucked it behind Obi-Wan's ear. It slipped out and fell stubbornly back to place. Obi-Wan's nose scrunched up adorably when tickled by a stray strand. Anakin huffed.

Anakin paused, tearing his hand away. Hadn't he just thought that just seeing Obi-Wan was enough? He shouldn't disturb Obi-Wan, shouldn't be here in the first place. He was intruding.

But hadn't Obi-Wan told him that his door was always open to Anakin? The thought sprang up to defend his action, Obi-Wan had said it to Anakin when he was a padawan.

However Anakin currently was a knight, wasn't he? Things could be different. He wasn't Obi-Wan's responsibility anymore. But were they? Anakin still thought of Obi-Wan as his Master and Obi-Wan didn't seem to mind Anakin continuing to call him that, and the word "padawan" slipped from Obi-Wan's tongue many times.

Anakin assured himself that he was being reasonable. Except he couldn't be reasonable around Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan somehow managed to light every fire inside him. It hurt to be so close because it made Anakin yearned to be even closer, even to be inside of him. It hurt to be far away because Anakin wouldn't know how he was, if he was fine or drowning in trouble like a stupid self-sacrificing idiot he was for all he preached Anakin for doing the same thing. At the thought, he couldn't stop himself from fondly stroking Obi-Wan's cheek, brushing his thumb at raspy cinnamon beard. His touch was light. He was just assuring to himself that Obi-Wan was right here of course. His Master would understand if he woke up and demanded explanation.

He wouldn't, Anakin was sure. He weaved mild sleep suggestion in his touch to keep him under. If Anakin said so himself, Obi-Wan seemed to enjoy it, nuzzling his face against Anakin's palm. Anakin smiled, cupping his chin and ran a finger on the bottom lip. It was soft, a contrast to his pricking beard. His mouth was barely parted. Anakin wondered what it would be like to have his finger inside.

Anakin's ribs felt too small to contain the swelling of his chest. He felt feverish. His head throbbed. The world was tilting on its axis. Everything just hurt. He had to drop his forehead on the edge of the bed because he couldn't hold it up anymore. His hand found Obi-Wan's curled on the hem of blanket. Anakin covered it with his own, reveling in its strength and tracing callous and small raised scars.

Kark, soft sheet under his face smelt like Obi-Wan and just as soft. Anakin yawned again and rubbed his face against the cursed, lovely fabric under his cheek. He still had a Japor snippet to slip inside the pocket of Obi-Wan's robe for good luck. He reared his head up with difficulty, wanting to sink it back to the cloud of Obi-Wan's bed the instant he parted from it. He almost jolted. Obi-Wan's face was just there. A mere inch away from his own. Nothing made sense, not his jumbled thought or alarm blaring at the back of his mind.

He kissed Obi-Wan. It was soft. It was tender. Obi-Wan's mouth was pliant and unmoving. It was love and betrayal. It was Anakin's desire and most shameful secret.

It was the end of them, when Obi-Wan's eyes blinking open blearily and zeroed in on Anakin's face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't kill me yet, everyone. I promise a happy ending for our boys. Our poor Anakin is pining so hard for his master. Heheh.
> 
> Stay safe!


End file.
